


Night Time

by cyndario



Series: Talibah Cadash | good kid, m.A.A.d City [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:51:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3297554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyndario/pseuds/cyndario
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At night, the Inquisitor is more at peace. And sometimes, she falls asleep in the oddest of places. Her companions have no idea what to do with her. A short, introductory work of sorts about my Inquisitor, Talibah Cadash, and the goings on in the place she calls home. </p><p>[ A huge thank you to ChocoChipBiscuit for reading through and offering advice. You gave me the encouragement to write this. :]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Time

Night time in Skyhold was a peaceful experience. At night, no one looked for the Herald of Andraste, for the leader of the Inquisition. And in these few hours of the night, Talibah wandered. Learning every nook and cranny of her dilapidated and ancient fortress, listening to the murmur of voices within the halls, the shouts of the tavern, the sighs of content from a meal just finished within the main hall. Under the gentle rays of the moon she wandered, relaxed and unhurried, to the battlements beneath the construction of her Templar Tower. It was here that she could sit and hide, light her pipe, and watch as the smoke tendrils rose from her lips into the night sky. The burn of each inhalation was nothing more than a dull hum, the fragrance of crushed rose petals within her tobacco wafting into her nose, clinging to her clothes. In moments like this, she was truly at peace.

 

But then again, her peace only ever lasted for a few moments.

 

“‘Quizzy!” was the shriek she heard over the howl of the wind, a pair of soft hands covering her eyes and giggling madly behind her. She set her pipe down beside her and gently removed her companion’s hands from her face, cradling them across her shoulders.

 

“Hello, Sera. Are you enjoying yourself tonight?” Her deep voice rumbled within her smaller frame, tickling Sera’s chest as she pressed herself close.

 

“I would be more if you weren’t hiding! Why is the ‘quizzy hiding from the party? It’s your party, silly!” Laughing as she ruffled Sera’s hair, Talibah shook her head.

 

“Not in the mood for partying tonight, Ser. Maybe after the next dragon slaying.”  Crinkling her nose, Sera stuck out her tongue before she wrapped her arms tight around Talibah.

 

“Well, there’s plenty of rich tits here we could prank. Up for it?” Talibah turned and angled her head to look into her friend’s face.

 

“Not tonight, love. Maybe another night?” Sera shrugged as she unlatched herself from Talibah’s hands.

 

“Suit yourself, more fun for me.” Talibah watched as she moved in silence away and back towards the tavern, the wind snatching the warmth of her presence away with it’s cold grip. Talibah picked her pipe back up, only for the embers to have died down. Shuffling through her pockets, she found an extra flint. Striking it across the stone beneath her, she lit the end and rekindled her pipe. Sighing softly, she leaned back against the stone and listened to the sounds beneath her.

 

Down in the tavern, the group was celebrating their defeat of the dragon in Crestwood. Drinks were flowing, songs were sung, and the tale was being spun a thousand times in a thousand different ways by Varric. She had tried to participate in the festivities when she could, but something about the night called to her. So alone, along the battlements, she puffed away at her pipe and just… sat. Clearing her mind, forgetting things for a moment helped her to remember who she was. The Inquisition was so large--and it never seemed to stop growing--and here she was, it’s leader.

 

The Inquisitor.

 

Lady Cadash they called her. They deferred to her--a casteless--for guidance! Revered her as a chosen one, a symbol of change and new beginnings. Just six months ago she was a smuggler for the Carta, nothing of importance and not a tear would be shed had she lost her life on an operation. But now?

 

Hundreds flock to Skyhold every week--for protection, for guidance, for a chance to see her. She had no idea what to do half the time. She tried to follow what her mother taught her, but her mother was one of the most feared members of the Carta this side of the Frostbacks. She ruled her cells with an iron fist, and had not hesitated to execute her own kin to send a message.

 

Did she truly wish to be like her?

 

Inhaling slowly, Talibah let the dull burn of the tobacco seep into her lungs, then exhaled with a long breath. There she went again, overthinking. No, this was her place of peace. Best to save her worries for when she was Inquisitor Cadash again.

 

No… in this moment, she was just Talibah.

 

Leaning her face towards the sky once more, Talibah watched as the stars splashed across the sky, glittering the deep darkness beyond. How her ancestors had been so unfortunate to have never seen a night sky baffled her. She lived for nights like these. Slowly, she let her pipe fall beside her yet again as she closed her eyes and just listened to the night.

“Just a few more minutes”, she thought. “I’ll head back in just a bit.”

 

* * *

 

Across the courtyard, Vivienne looked down from her perch room atop the main entryway and saw the Inquisitor curled up on the battlements. She watched as she shivered a bit and clung to herself, trying to shield herself from the cold night air. With a flick of her wrist, she set a barrier around her, stopping the frigid air from assaulting her. She smiled as she watched Talibah visibly relax, the tension easing from her bones. “Rest easy, darling.” She whispered, the wind carrying her softly spoken words from her lips. Turning away, she closed the balcony doors and laid upon her couch, nestling into her cushions with her books.

 

Cullen and Ser Barris were speaking at length about new additions to be added to the Templar quarters, walking along the battlements towards the tavern. But as they grew closer, they saw the Inquisitor pressed within a junction of the stone walls, her eyes closed in sleep. Almost instantly they quieted down, moving as quietly as they thought they could as not to disturb her further. As Cullen passed by an Inquisition soldier, he ordered that there be two man teams patrolling the battlements near the construction sights for the remainder of the night.

 

The Iron Bull staggered out of the tavern, he and his Chargers chanting and singing as they poured out into the cool night air. Just as their voices reached a crescendo, Cullen shook his head and pointed up to the unfinished tower, before murmuring about ‘sleeping Inquisitors’. Bull turned to his company and had them head to their bunks, as he made his way up the stairs. There, sitting as still as a bird was the Inquisitor, curled in on herself as she slept soundly underneath the moonlight. Shaking his head, he walked over and gently picked up her smaller body within his arms. She began to shift a bit in his arms, sleep losing it’s grip on her.

 

“Shh, head back to sleep, Boss. I got you.”

 

“Bull?” She murmured, and she nestled deeper into his arms. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she laid her head on his chest as he began walking her to her quarters.

 

“How many times I gotta tell you about sleeping on the battlements, Boss? You’ll catch something in the cold.” He reprimanded gently, taking the steps carefully so he didn’t jostle her too much more. She didn’t answer, simply sighed into his chest and began slipping back into sleep. The trek towards the main tower was long, but her gentle breathing became almost soothing, the little puffs of air right above his heart. Josephine had just walked out of her office and was heading towards her chambers when she saw Bull holding the Inquisitor in his arms. Placing her hands on her hips, she fretted before she even made it over to the two of them.

 

“Sleeping on the battlements again, Bull?”

 

“Isn’t she always, Josie?”   
  


“Do make sure she at least attempts to sleep a bit in that bed of hers. It’s not for decoration.”

 

“I can’t promise anything, Josephine.”

 

“And cover her up in her in her duvet. She catches cold easily.”

 

“Yes, Lady Montilyet.”

 

“And tend to her fire before you leave. She says it helps her sleep.”

 

“Yes, mother.”

 

“And then--are you mocking me, Iron Bull?”   
  


“Who, me? Would never dream of it.”

 

Josephine huffed as she playfully glared at Bull, then brushed a lock of hair out of Talibah’s face. Her features softened, and she smiled at her sleeping friend.

 

“Do take care of her, Bull.”   
  


“I plan too, Josephine.” They shared a brief smile before Josephine moved out of his way, continuing on her way towards her chambers. Bull motioned with his head for one of the guards to open the doors for him, and as he slipped through he nodded in thanks before they closed the door behind him. Heading up the staircase leading towards her chambers, he saw the soft glow of her fireplace creep beneath the archway, the only source of light within her room. As he made his way towards her large Orlesian bed, she shuffled a bit more, whining as he began to place her on the litter of pillows that adorned the mattress.

 

Chuckling, he detached her arms from around his neck and began removing her shoes. Once the blasted things were unlaced and thrown to the floor, he slid her underneath the cool blankets and tucked her in. He tended to the fire, then made his way towards the staircase. But before he made his trek back to his room, he looked back at her sleeping form and a small smile crept across his face.

 

“Panahedan, Talibah.”

 

Softly, his footfalls began to echo until they weren’t heard any more, and when the door at the end of her staircase closed Talibah smiled. Curling into her blankets more, her giggle gave way to a loud yawn, before she finally resigned herself to sleep.

 

“Good night, Iron Bull.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to start off with something slow and sweet about a character that means a lot to me. Comments and critiques are welcome. I'll be expanding on her and her story-line soon. Thanks so much for reading. :)


End file.
